


We gonna cross the line

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: As It All Burns [5]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, GFY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3212324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They spar only when they don't have a witness to their indiscretions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We gonna cross the line

With Anakin shut into his room for the night, the training ring is theirs until their shared apprentice shambles out in search of caf in the morning, if they wish it. Obi-Wan breathes in deeply, turning slowly in the center as Maul stalks the outside, his saber unlit in hand. Waiting patiently for the Sith - and whatever drives them both now, neither is willing to let go of who and what they were before - to make the first strike in the bout.

Red meets blue in a brief clash and hiss, before they each step back, sabers going dark once more. Circling again, another strike and response, lightning flickers of color stripping off masks, and casting faces in stark contrasts.

When Maul leaves his saber-staff humming after a strike, Obi-Wan matches him, and moves into the next steps of the dance, Force sliding along his skin and through him. With each circuit of the ring, they push themselves a little faster, weaving a net of brilliant blue and red, each aware of the danger if they slip and courting that danger. Certainly when this - whatever this is - ceases to drive them, they will do their best to destroy each other.

It ends with his saber at Maul's throat, and the deactivated blade of Maul's saber-staff resting just below his ribs, mutual destruction assured if they continued to move.

"After Sidious is dead." Maul's voice is flat, though his eyes gleam with hate and fury even now.

"You can try." Obi-Wan smiles, stepping back before he deactivates his saber. Returning to the center of the ring, he watches Maul until the red of the saber-staff is extinguished as well. Waiting until the Zabrak returns the hilt to his belt before he turns to leave the training ring, making his way through the narrow corridors to the rooms at the far end from where Anakin sleeps.

The old-fashioned door is warm beneath his hand as he pushes the door open, holding it so Maul need not catch it before it swings back toward his face. He hears the tumblers of the lock shift and click into place once the heavy wood thumps back into place, but does not turn around.

Lightsaber is placed precisely on the polished smooth surface of the trunk he uses for his own, gloves stripped off one by one to lay next to it. Belt and sash removed with the same precision, before tabards, tunic, and shirt are hung on their hooks above. His boots are set next to the trunk once they're off, and Obi-Wan finally turns, looking across to the similar set up on the far side of the room.

Every one of Maul's pieces of clothing is a black that eats the light, but otherwise a mirror of Obi-Wan's. Underneath, scars snake their way across red skin and black tattoos that turn Maul's skin into a work of art. Disturbing and dangerous art, to be sure, but there is a beauty there that makes Obi-Wan shiver. He will regret the necessity of killing Maul later, even though he thinks he will find it a relief.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan turns away, walking through the arch that leads into the garden that centers this set of rooms, breathing deeply of the cool, damp air. It smells of the night-blooming flowers whose vines run riot through the ruins these still-intact rooms center, of rich soil and running water.

Under his feet, the grass is soft, and Obi-Wan stays still a long moment, extending his Force-sense to take in the whisper of the life around him. There is a darker thread, hungry and destructive, but familiar, that winds about it all. Perhaps even, in some ways, loved, though some days he wishes he could reject it - reject Maul - entirely.

A spark of electricity bathes his skin with prickling pain a bare second before Maul's hand comes to rest between his shoulders, pushing him toward the second arch. Obi-Wan twists, catching Maul's wrist in his own grip, the same pale lightning crackling between their skin before his fingers make contact. "In my own time."

Maul snorts, one corner of his mouth twisting upward in a mockery of a smile, his eyes glowing pale amber in the dim moonlight. Corruption and rage, power burning through behind the hunger. Desire for the skin contact, for the pain that precedes it, and the thrum of Force through flesh that follows. Indulgence in a secret they keep between them, even from their shared apprentice.

Obi-Wan takes another deep breath of the night air before letting go, and following Maul through into the room which holds only one large bed. Room enough for them to sleep without touching or sparking Force between them, but for the last twelve years, they've always found themselves waking together in the center.

Turning, Maul pushes him against the wall next to the arch, hands held just far enough from his skin to spark, thin tendrils of pain that fade readily into pleasure - Obi-Wan knows he's become far too fond of the sensation, has associated it too closely with sex since they'd begun this strange exile. He leans his head back against the rough stone, his breath shuddering out as Maul finally brings his hands to rest on Obi-Wan's hips, just above the trousers that Obi-Wan hadn't shed earlier.

There are no words, just efficient hands divesting him of what clothing he hadn't already removed, and sparking hands sliding down to curl close around his hardening cock and dance lightning over his balls. Obi-Wan bites his lip, drawing a deep breath through his nose when Maul closes his hand, trading lightning hints of pain for a bone-deep hum of Force that isn't quite enough and is almost too much at the same time.

He reaches out, curling one hand around behind Maul's head, though Obi-Wan knows he's courting a bloody lip when he pulls him in for a kiss. He wants more, has asked for it in the past, but he knows he won't get it - Maul seems singularly uninterested in anything other than getting Obi-Wan off when he does this. Out of self-preservation, perhaps, since none of them can leave until they all do, and then their alliance will run swiftly to its end.

Pain echoes expected from the sharp snap Maul delivers, and blood tastes like iron and ozone in his mouth as Obi-Wan draws back, a grin flashing across his face. "The bed, at least?"

Maul's hand tightens a moment on Obi-Wan's cock, before he slides his free hand further back, lightning sparking off his fingertips against perineum and ass, making Obi-Wan gasp and arch his back as he closes his eyes. A fingertip pressed just behind his balls makes him come with a groan, the deep thrum of Force-enhanced pleasure wringing him out.

"Now sleep, Jedi." Maul steps away from him, letting Obi-Wan stumble over to fall face-first into the bed, vaguely aware that he's probably going to have to wash his trousers in the morning before he can wear them. The Zabrak does like to use them to wipe his hands off before bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Edge of Forever, by Lynyrd Skynyrd.


End file.
